


trust

by rarmaster



Series: trust and boundaries [1]
Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: F/M, They fucked, dunks this in a separate fic so i don't have to up ratings anywhere else, it wasn't explicit but they fucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: Kratos and Anna have a discussion about boundaries.(XC2 AU / YWKON)





	trust

**Author's Note:**

> honestly a little embarrassed that this is a thing i'm uploading (IT'S NOT EVEN REALLY EXPLICIT??) but it was haunting me and is pretty cornerstone for their relationship within YWKON's universe so take it. plus it's cute.

“Hey, hang on,” Anna whispers, against his ear. Her breath is hot against his skin, and the way her body is on the rest of him makes it quite difficult to think in an incredible way, but—

“Mm?” Kratos manages, to make it clear he’s listening.

“Just—before we get much further,” Anna gasps between breaths. She grunts, urgent, and it makes Kratos’ chest flutter in ways he frankly had no idea were possible. He wants nothing more to pull her closer and see this the rest of the way through, but she’s gone kind of still, so he waits, even as his hands wrap around her waist. “I know you’re—weird, about getting touched, sometimes, so if. Mm. If we need to stop, at any point—”

The way she’s having trouble stringing thoughts together is kind of intoxicating. He wants to unravel her further.

“I think I’m good,” Kratos assures her, twisting his head and leaning in so he can scrape his teeth lightly against the side of her neck. The way she yelps with delight and arches into it is maddening in all the right ways.

“Fucker,” she gasps. “Fuck. Just—if that _changes_. _Tell me_ , okay? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Her concern is honestly sweeter than the taste of her skin on his. Kratos pulls her closer, holds her tighter, so he can drown himself in both.

“I will,” he promises.

 

 

\- - - 

 

 

“I mean it,” Anna says, pushing Kratos a mug of coffee across the counter before she hoists herself up into the stool across from him. “What I said last night.”

She said a lot of things last night. Kratos would frankly hope she meant all of them. He thinks for a second about teasing, but her smile’s a little more serious than it normally is, deep brown eyes almost laser-focused on him. He loves their intensity more than he knew he was capable of.

“Which bit?” Kratos asks, still, to get them on the same page.

Anna blushes, makes a face. “The- I mean, all of it,” she says, and Kratos laughs lightly, drinking his coffee to hide how wide his smirk is as she glares at him before her expression softens again. “But specifically the bit about how—if you ever need me to stop, for any reason, no matter what we’re doing—talking, sparring, holding hands, having sex, _whatever—_ you have to tell me.”

The coffee tastes a little more bitter, all of a sudden. Or maybe he’s just more aware of it. Kratos finishes his drink and sets the coffee back down, not looking at Anna.

He wants to tell her that he’s pretty sure that’s never going to happen.

But he’s definitely nearly-or-actually punched her before because she got too close when he wasn’t expecting it multiple times before and… While he’s _pretty_ sure that’s unlikely to happen at least while they’re having sex, he probably shouldn’t rule it out. Trauma’s a bitch. He knows that better than probably anyone, seeing as he’s lived with it for almost five hundred years.

“I wanted to talk about it when we were both a little more sober and aha, you know, a little less _distracted_ ,” Anna presses, cheeks pink when Kratos looks at her again. She’s grinning, though, not an inch of shame in her smile. “Make sure we both know what to do should something like that come up.”

“Not a bad idea,” Kratos agrees.

Anna smiles at him, full of warm love that melts him completely. She continues with her explanation, smile turning a tad sheepish as she elaborates: “I’m usually not that great at realizing I’ve fucked something until after I’ve done it—”

“You seemed pretty aware you were fucking me last night,” Kratos interrupts, hiding another smirk behind his coffee, which he almost chokes on at the _look_ Anna shoots him.

“Alright!” she laughs, high and delighted and just-short of furious. “You know what I meant!”

( _It feels natural, good, in ways things haven’t felt in hundreds of years. He knows he is channeling Martel more than anything else but for the first time in a very long time it doesn’t make him ache more than he can handle._ )

Kratos very carefully puts his coffee back down and straightens his face before he speaks, though it’s very, _very_ hard to stop grinning. “You may have to elaborate.”

Anna sighs. “It’s just hard sometimes to realize that I’m doing something dumb until after I’ve done it—and _don’t! start!_ ” She wags a finger at him and Kratos laughs. She waits until he’s sure he isn’t going to interject with another dirty comment before she continues: “And I know that sometimes things can just go from perfect to horrible with absolutely no fanfare at all. So. If that happens. We already have a system worked out, here.”

( _Because Mikhail has bad nights that could rival Kratos’ easy, because Malik has been through some shit even if he won't tell anyone what exactly that shit is, because half the population here is blades who have been burned, because trauma is a bitch and likes to rear its head at the most unexpected times and all of them except maybe Malos have some kind of trauma they’re sitting on. They all mostly know their family well enough to avoid stepping on triggers but sometimes they get stepped on anyway._ _And they have to have something to_ deal _with that_.)

“A system?” Kratos asks, intrigued.

Anna nods. She looks a little proud—but he knows her well enough to know there is very little she won’t brag about—as she explains: “One word. _Lighthouse._ I forget who picked it, but—it’s code for _whatever you’re doing you need to stop because trauma is a bitch and I can’t fucking breathe_. Easier to say one word than articulate entire sentences when your brain and body both are fighting against you. And—we all know what it means, so you say it to anyone here and they’ll understand.”

It’s… not a bad system, Kratos has to admit.

“Convenient,” he says, too winded to be much more eloquent than that.

Anna shrugs. “We’ve needed it.” She leans across the counter towards him, all intense again. “And if _you_ need it, I’m not going to judge. Don’t care what we’re doing, why you need to stop. I don’t want to hurt you. And I _will_ stop, the moment you ask. Promise.”

Kratos stares. He already trusts Anna—a lot. So much. ( _Of course he does, or last night wouldn’t have happened._ ) So he’s not exactly surprised by this, nor does it really change anything, but…

Anna’s maybe the first person— _ever—_ who’s been so up front with him about something like this. She’s _definitely_ the first human.

And that means… more to him than Kratos thinks he could ever possibly describe.

“Thank you,” he says.

Anna shakes her head, smiles. “Thank _you_ ,” she insists. “Lot easier to relax if I know you’re taking care of yourself. Gonna make a reprise of last night a lot easier.”

Kratos splutters, ducks his head down to hide his blush.

Anna laughs, loud, reaches over and nudges him. “What, can dish it out but can’t take?” she teases. “It wasn’t even that bad!”

“Just—” Kratos protests. Can’t find words. “Look.”

“Finish your coffee and we could probably arrange for a reprise right now.”

“ _Anna._ ”

( _He doesn’t say no, though, because actually? That sounds kind of nice._ )


End file.
